Tea - Masaala Chai

Close friends Raj, Shana and Josh looked forward to Joshna’s tea, her famous masaala chai. Chai latte; brewed Indian style with a dash of fresh grated ginger, turmeric, cardmoms, cloves, fennel, black pepper, milk and honey. The other guests at this friends get together, happy to polish off their alcoholic beverages; help themselves to water, juice or fancy coffee from the new automatic expresso coffee machine.

They’d been an awesome foursome once, not too long ago that Josh and Joshna had been a super duper duo, a couple; those sure were exciting and fun times. At her friends’ insistence that she make mean cups of her famous masaala chai, Joshi squeezed past the two guys in conversation to Shana’s familiar kitchen bench with a hand gesture that they move aside to let her through. The guys darting her cheeky nods, ending with their usual bro fist bumps. Josh propped his head up by his hands on the kitchen bench he’d helped to install, watching her every move.  

“A cup of your spicy masaala tea, err chai would have been good Jo... great she agrees.” The semblance of a crooked smile escaping his lips.   

Joshi couldn't but marvel at the guy’s persistence with a toss of her head. The flash of a stubborn filly, having commented at this gesture of hers just like so many more. She placed two cups of water in a pan on the stove and turned toward him to pass the milk from the fridge. He was already holding up the milk bottle and a cup, watching her tippy toe to reach up for spices overhead. Josh gently slid his hands over hers, bringing them down to the bench top. He’d lifted her up to get what she needed from overhead cupboards once, saying there was no need for a step ladder; sliding her down gently leading to moments of tenderness. Her glance with a softening expression of yet another recollection; yes, they still read each other’s thoughts too well.   

“Here let me. Half and half make two equal parts of milk and water; that I know for sure. What else do you need? No evaporated milk, rose petals or tulsi; holy basil leaves?”

She shook her head. His fingers moved reverently over her rings and fingers; they felt good these hands and fitted like a glove into his. She glanced at their hands, retrieving them gently; she felt safe in his hands, they’d fitted. Her hands wanted to remain in his, she felt drawn to him, wanted to be held in his arms. Invisible threads of emotions ever strengthening hold over their senses again.       

“Yes and no sandalwood or turmeric in this brew my friend.” Raj chuckled.

“Cardamoms please.” Joshi glanced at Raj and Josh’s exchange of expressions regarding a brew of sandalwood and turmeric and that other embrace of milk and water. 

They’d all chuckled at an advertisement that Joshi literally was the sandalwood and her Josh the turmeric of their partnership. Sharing laughs at a pose termed the embrace of water and milk from the Kama Sutra. Intimate yogic poses practiced in the privacy of the lion’s den of course. 

How did the fresh turmeric make it into Joshi’s delicious masaala chai?

It was her family norm to have fresh organic turmeric and ginger plants in the garden; turmeric pounded with a mortar and pestle to heal all cuts, lesions and used for natural facials. Boiled in fresh milk it was an excellent natural remedy for coughs, colds and heating the body especially for new lactating mum’s; heats the body and induces milk production when mixed with ginger and fennel. They preferred it juiced with peppercorns to bring out and help absorption of the curcuminoids or as the warm therapeutic ginger and turmeric milk drink. She simply chewed a bit like one would a piece of carrot or fruit, a bit tart but hey how better to use and test its healing properties. She’d accidently grated fresh turmeric instead of extra ginger into her specially blended tea masaala made from cloves, cardamon, fennel, nutmeg, black pepper in the milk and water on the boil. Not one to waste, instead of tipping the mixture out, she’d added the tea leaves anyways and made the tea. So voila her favourite tea now complete with a dash of fresh turmeric, ginger, tea masaala, safron and honey!

Joshi sprinkled the brown granules into a small, marble mortar and pestle Shana slid over to her. With a circular motion of her wrists, she ground to powder the cardamom, cloves, fennel, cinnamon, black pepper and dash of nutmeg; adding them to the now slowly swirling, rising mixture of milk and water. Not able to look up at Josh with downcast eyes, yet fully aware of his penetrating gaze. How like these spices our poor hearts are. At fate’s mercy to churn and crush at whim. I'm unable to resist him yet again; softening in our resolve to give each other space, not hurt each other... She bit her lip, fighting back emotional, hot tears brimming up in her eyes as she turned to add finely grated fresh ginger and turmeric with a sprinkle of saffron.

Josh’s fingers had brushed against hers to take the microplane grater, grate pieces of ginger and turmeric into soft, fluffy mounds as in earlier times, checking for turmeric stains on fingers. The underlying currents at the slightest touch still present as with previous zings. She always got lovely, rich colour on her hands from tumeric and henna.  Shana had laughed at the traditional Indian adage that your guy really loves you when the turmeric and henna colour stained hands deep and strong. Shana handed her a little Kashmiri decorated saffron canister; a present from Joshi, who loved a few strands of saffron in her tea. The J’s relationship had been deep and strong.

“Hey, tell me does this cha heat up quicker or become tastier if you stare so intently without blinking?” Josh questioned Joshi’s pensive demeanour in an attempt to make light conversation. 

 “No.” 

Joshi added loose tea leaves to the milky liquid, before turning the heat down to allow it to gently simmer and brew. They watched the tiny, tight balls of the Indian black tea soften and open out into thin, long strips; releasing their colour and flavour. The saffron threads ribboning into the spices and tea leaves, its reddish gold hued essence blending into the mixture. 

“I was thinking about the parable of the union of water and milk on the boil.” 

She didn’t move away from him, but reached out to get two sets of cups, honey, organic coconut sugar in a bowl and teaspoons, placing them on a circular silver tray.

“Yes, I know that too.” Josh’s soft response. “Isn't it beautiful, how the water evaporates first to prevent its friend milk from getting burnt? Once bereft of water, milk overflows to honour its partnership with milk as a sacrificial burning. It cannot exist without its friend water that has burnt and evaporated.”

“It's a pity that the same doesn’t apply to all.” The two guys’ immediately echoing why not to Joshi’s sad murmur. 

“All you need is a good, loving heart, honest intentions and respect.” Josh’s quick on the mark response yet again. 

“Yes, but life is no bed of roses. We all agree that true love is precious, and one should count themselves very fortunate if there’s willingness to commit, like unconditionally.” Shana cut in with deliberate emphasis, reiterating a piece of her mind on this once inseparable foursome.

“Now the secret is to allow the tealeaves to release their flavour, then add sugar, sweetener or honey to taste. Needs to be the right strength, yet fluffy or it will be too strong and bitter. Now strain into cups, stir and voila!”

Joshi had sprinkled some coconut sugar in the mixture to give it a nutty sweetness. Smidgen of honey for everyone it was, just a teeny weeny bit? To the girls impish grinned suggestion that the lads needed more sweetening, the guys choroused that they were perfect as is thanks ladies! Everyone sipped the refreshing, froth headed drink, savouring its sweet, aromatic taste. Yum, all four sighed to the last dregs. Appreciation and recollections of happier times, be it masaala chai, or that mango, yoghurt and buttermilk drink - mango lassi or a so-called mean jug of her iced tea. Her secret was to bring a few gunpowder green tea leaves to a near quick boil, steep the bad boy shu cha; make sure it was very light and not bitter. Said she also made it with wu yi rock tea. Add a bit of shredded lemongrass, thin slices of ginger, sweeten with hibsicus and lavender petals, sprinkle some organic coconut sugar, a tiny drizzle of honey and ginger syrup. Strain onto ice, a dash of mineral water for some effervescent omph, squeeze and add a slice of lime or lemon boom! Didn’t like the taste of stevia leaves.

 “Yep just like life’s mixture of sweet n' sour; hot with lots of sweet and tangy ya guys?” The guys nodding agreement with their usual fist bump at golden honey’s smooth sweetening properties, even better more of the milk and water embrace.   

 Holding her cup by the handle with her left-hand, Joshi swirled it in a circular movement before gently putting it down. Josh did the same, putting his cup down next to hers with a tea leaf reading prediction from the very fine residue at the bottom of the cup. All symbols of positive health, wealth, happiness, and prosperity - that was his wish for all. 

Shana immediately rolled her eyes and deliberately bared her teeth. She bit her bottom lip at Joshi’s nudge to please hold all comments and not upset any balance of normalcy, at least for now. She simply finished her tea, near slamming down her cup without checking for any tea leaf pattern reading. With a harrumphed shrug darting her friend Joshi a cautionary grimace, she turned to check on their remaining guests. Hello, Joshi had strained the tea into the cups, tea leaf reading alright! These friends had been through a shit storm and it hurt too much to see them hurt. Please don’t head towards anywhere near more hurt, please.

Josh sank down on a park bench scattered amongst folding chairs, furthest away from the music and hum of voices, raised up by gradual decibels as the soiree evening wore on. Joshi faced him with a strange, somewhat quirky expression etched on her face as she turned away from a garden lamp behind their bench, now swarming with fiery moths diving to their deaths of scorching zaps and charred cinders.

“What?” He questioned her intrigued expression, with raised eyebrows.  

“These poor moths drawn to the light; some are zooming in and literally beating against the burning glass! Fatal attraction all right, don't they know better?”   

“Perhaps they do, hey they live life dangerously. Better to have loved and lost, then not have loved at all. Live life to the fullest; better than dying a little each day, who has seen tomorrow so damn tomorrow.”

“Hmm you sure know that one by heart, an oft-quoted favourite?” She had translated these sentiments to him from Hindi.

Joshi slid her palms over her benign dupatta, that veil she’d thrown over the shoulders of her embellished Indian kurti top and pants with a shrug, contemplating Josh’s words uttered in earnest. She slowly stood up to turn towards the frantically fluttering insects, doggedly zigzagging around the light. Her devilish dupatta beguilingly, slithered down her shoulders onto the ground. With a shake of his head, he picked up her dupatta to place around her shoulders now cool to the touch, exposed to the evening wind, no longer warmed by the sun that had set a long while ago. He softly let his fingers caress the triumphant fabric of her dupatta over her bare shoulders by a force of habit.

“Getting cool huh?” Joshi shivered, briskly running her hands over her shoulders. 

“Yep sure is.” Softly spoken with an upclose unwavering gaze as she sat down beside him, rubbing her hands together for warmth. Her impish dupatta rustled, and her silver, gold, and magenta bangles clinked at her brisk hand movements. 

Josh instinctively put his arms around her in a tight embrace, where they sat silent. His lips softly brushed her enticing, wind rustled dupatta clad shoulder. Simply breathing; a warm glow of body heat stole between them, their familiar scent permeating into each other’s senses. Felt her heartbeat against his chest and she his against her back, neither venturing to release their vocal cords from shackled captivity. His fingers linked into hers to gently clink each fragile glass bangle on her wrists, one after another. Clink, clink, clink… 

 “What are you two doing, freezing out there?” Shana called out at the top of her voice to their resolute forms from afar, shielding her eyes from the lamp behind them. “That wind sure has picked up and it’s getting chilly and dark, come on, don't be too long. Raj.” She glanced around for her husband and narrowed her eyes, especially at Joshi in an obvious gesture of reprimand, when the two J’s lifted their bent heads in unison towards her with a nod.

Remaining in each others arms, snuggling closer into their embrace, they felt at home within the warmth, the  security within each others arms. How they’d missed the other, them, together like this…